Not The Same Thing
by Artemisthe2
Summary: Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo sails for his king and queen. What happens when he meets other people who try to interfere in his duty? Contains England/Spain and Spain/Romano.
1. Chapter 1

**Yes...another fanfic...and this is a weird idea...yeah...it's not set in the Hetalia universe nor is it historically accurate. Like an AU?  
**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, NOTHING, I SAY. EXCEPT THE FANFIC...and even I'm not so sure of that...

* * *

**He was loyal to the Spanish royal family and only the Spanish royal family. Any orders from them were final, even from the little prince who babbled and spoke of things like horses and didn't know any of the troubles in the world. He loved the family, loved their kindness and warmth, loved playing with their children and wanted to do anything to protect their happiness. He used to be the head of the palace guard back then and now, he was the captain of their navy.

Despite being so far away from their warmth and in this rough life of constant sailing and conquering, he was never bothered too much about it because he knew that he was doing it for them and he had to be loyal to his king and queen. Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo was a simple man who smiled a lot and was relied on by many people and has thus gained quite a reputation among the seven seas he sailed. He was oblivious to it all as he was trying to avoid staying on land for too long and have people be suspicious of the ship.

It all started back when the old captain got shot with an arrow. The wound got infected and they were afraid he would die, so Antonio, who was a competent guard, was trained diligently to be more proficient in sailing and various nautical skills. He simply listened, followed instructions and did his best. Apparently, he did too well and the old captain recovered, but then he retired and let Antonio take over his job. A bit miffed, Antonio agreed to do it as long as the king found another replacement and let Antonio return to being a guard.

Messengers came to congratulate him every time he won a battle, but none of them said anything about the king finding a replacement.

He was beginning to doubt his king, but he would continue his blind loyalty to him. It was only right of him, after all. It was only right...only right....despite how hopeless it felt, he would keep his head up high, smile, and be proud to be a loyal servant of his king. It was the last thing he had left.

* * *

Antonio walked out of the building, wearing a frown as he left. The messenger he had just talked to had not brought him much good news. In fact, he didn't bring any good news at all. Apparently, there were rumors of a new land and he was supposed to sail there and "convince" the inhabitants to submit to Spain. _Oh great, another expedition,_ he thought, shaking his head and frowning. Thoughts like those weren't allowed. The blonde haired man next to him glanced at him, noting his tense way of walking.

"_Mon ami_, anything wrong?" the man asked, not looking very worried. Antonio always looked like this after getting one of the infrequent messages from the royal family.

Antonio smiled carelessly at the man, "_No, es nada_, Francis, now let's get back to the others, hm?"

The Frenchman scoffed, obviously not believing Antonio, but he said nothing more and simply nodded. There was silence between them as they walked past noisy villagers and even when they got back to the ship. Antonio turned to go to his quarters for a badly needed rest, but Francis laid a hand on his shoulder. Antonio raised an eyebrow at this, turning slightly to look at the Frenchman.

"Antonio," Francis said.

"Francis," Antonio replied, looking slightly confused.

Francis opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again to say, "I promise you, _mon ami_, someday, this seafaring life will end." He hugged Antonio, patting the other's back once before pulling away with a smile.

Antonio smiled back gratefully. Francis always tried to cheer him up when he wasn't feeling normal. He really was thankful for such a good friend, even if he was a bit touchy-feely sometimes. The Spaniard still remembered one incident where he was drinking one night with the Frenchman and the next morning he woke up with him in his bed, naked. Needless to say, it was awkward and they rarely spoke of it.

"_Gracias, mi amigo_. I appreciate it, I really do," Antonio's smile widened to show that he was sincere and he walked away to his cabin. Once inside, he collapsed on the chair, clenching his fists and frowning since nobody could see him. He leaned back on the chair, glancing at the bottle of brandy on the floor.

He didn't drink it that day. Not even alcohol would help his frustration.

* * *

The next day was sunny, as expected. Antonio helped the men with the buying of supplies. They did have to stock up on food that needed to last a long time.

"Ergh, what a heavy load," one man complained to nobody in particular.

Antonio laughed, closing his eyes as if he was blinking, but he kept them closed for a second too long for it to be considered a blink. When he opened them, he had almost bumped into a blonde man with striking green eyes.

"Hey! Watch where you're going, git!" the man said in an accent Antonio knew to belong to English people.

"Ah, _lo siento_, I'm sorry! I was distracted, wasn't I?" Antonio laughed apologetically, trying to not look at the other man's eyebrows. They were bushy and desperately needed trimming.

"Tch, stupid idiot. I knew those Spaniards were all the same," the man sneered, crossing his arms. Antonio resisted the urge to punch him.

Instead, he brushed it off, chuckling forcibly, "I see, how nice! Excuse me, _señor_, but I really need to get by you, so would it be too much of a bother to step to the side?"

The man smirked, but stepped to the side just like Antonio had asked him to. Antonio nodded to him as he passed, glaring for just a little moment as if to warn him.

That meeting would haunt Antonio forever.

* * *

**Fear the horrible beginning that hints to what might happen later on. FEAR IT. It'll get a bit better later on. And the title will make sense later on too.  
**

**And this will take a few chapters before I finish it, don't know how much. I don't update regularly really.  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**This is the second chapter. Yes, that is obvious. I don't know...**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or its characters**.

* * *

Antonio blinked, his arms feeling sore as he moved them. They felt as if they were restricted when he tried to pull them apart and oh....they were tied. He tried to stand, but toppled over and realized that his legs were also restrained. He narrowed his eyes at the pulsating pain in his head.

"What happened?" he softly asked the darkness in front of him. Very little light was in the room he was in.

He leaned back against the wall, trying to remember what had happened right before this. He closed his eyes, letting out a small sigh. The injuries he had gotten didn't help much in remembering these things. Ah, but he recalled...almost everything now.

He remembered the shout of challenge that rang through the air and make him hurry out of his cabin, grabbing a sword just in case. Antonio went out and looked up into those emerald green eyes, a feeling of despair in his stomach from what he saw in those eyes. They were empty, but if he stared hard enough, he could see a hint of _bloodlust_, a need for people to submit. He remembered fighting back the urge to shudder from the growing fear he felt. The man he was looking at was and insane pirate. Antonio could just sense it from him.

"Oh, you're that git I met before," the man chuckled, smirking with confidence. Antonio found that smirk to be so frustrating.

"Yes, what do you want, _señor_?" Antonio questioned, wanting to get this over with already.

"I want you."

Antonio flinched at the possessive tone of that last word. He shuddered, glaring up at the other man and taking a step back.

"You will never have me," he said with a snarl.

Yet here he was, tied up and bleeding from many cuts. He must've been a pathetic sight. It was an obvious mistake to go against a ship full of pirates alone, but he was willing to be taken if the others were okay.

Opening his eyes, he glanced around the room. Not for the first time, he wondered why the blonde-haired man even wanted him.

The door opened, letting in some light and Antonio looked up to see his captor. The man looked down at him with a satisfied expression, as if he were looking at some beautiful trophy he had just won. Antonio hated that.

"I see you're awake now," the man murmured, walking into the room and leaving the door open.

Antonio nodded, staring off to the side, "Yes,_ señor_. What do you want?"

The pirate walked to the side, his boots making loud crunching noises as he took his steps, "Please, call me Arthur. I hate hearing your language." He pushed aside a curtain from a window, letting in more light.

Antonio didn't bother to move as his head was still hurting him a lot, "Why? I think my language is fine."

He was slapped for saying that and said nothing more.

"Spanish weakling. It was so easy to overpower you. Now you're mine," Arthur growled, kneeling next to Antonio. The blond caught Antonio's gaze and startled him by brushing his hand against his cheek. The action could be called gentle if not for the fact that it led to Arthur's hand pulling roughly at a lock of Antonio's curly hair.

Antonio winced, leaning towards the direction his hair was being pulled so as to lessen the pain. "I'm not yours," he grunted, glaring at the other man.

Arthur glared back, obviously disliking this show of defiance. He pulled harder at the lock of hair, letting it go completely. Antonio could almost sigh in relief once he was let go.

The smirk was back on Arthur's face, "If you're not mine now, you will be. I guarantee it." Before Antonio could protest, Arthur's lips were against his, crushing their lips together in a forceful kiss. The brunette let out a muffled cry of surprise as the Englishman put a finger against his chin and forced his mouth open. The kiss was wet, rough and Antonio hated himself for leaning forward to keep his lips against Arthur's just a second longer as the other man pulled back.

"Enjoyed that?" Arthur asked, wearing a smirk on his face. Antonio took a moment to catch his breath, glaring up at Arthur the whole time.

"_Por supuesto que no!_" Antonio growled, struggling in his binds. He wanted to attack this man in front of him for this disgusting thing he had just done. Suddenly, Arthur's boot was digging into his chest, knocking all the air out of him. Antonio cried out, shutting his eyes and grinding his teeth, trying not to concentrate on the pain.

"I told you," Arthur's voice had deepened to a low and dangerous tone, "I don't want to hear your filthy language from your mouth."

_'It's not a filthy language!'_, he wanted to shout out, but it was difficult enough just to focus on breathing correctly.

Arthur finally removed the boot and Antonio slowly relaxed, not wanting to move too suddenly. He decided to stay quiet as his secret defiance. If he wasn't allowed to speak the language of his country, then he wouldn't say anything at all. What a great plan.

The pirate sat down in front of Antonio, studying him with a sort of guarded curiosity. Antonio stared back, trying to see if he could guess anything else about this person from the smallest details.

"Say something," Arthur demanded, looking annoyed.

Antonio shook his head, smiling helplessly as if he couldn't help not talking. This obviously irritated Arthur to no end.

The pirate made a frustrated noise as he stood. He tossed something hard at Antonio and left without saying another word. Antonio awkwardly lifted the thing up with both of his hands, wrinkling his nose at the acrid smell of it.

"_¿Qué es esto?_" he asked, bringing it up so he could look at it properly.

It was a burnt loaf of bread.

* * *

**I'm not very good at this sorry. Yeah, some of the Spanish is from an online translator. You can correct some of them if they don't really make sense. Plus, I'm horrible at writing romance.  
**

**No, updates will probably never be this quick ever again.  
**


End file.
